I HAVE sung the songs of thy day.
In the evening let me carry thy lamp through the stormy path.

III. 76. kahain Kabir vicar ke
KABIR PONDERS and says: 'He who has neither caste nor country, who is formless and without quality, fills all space.'
The Creator brought into being the Game of Joy: and from the word Om the Creation sprang.
The earth is His joy; His joy is the sky;
His joy is the flashing of the sun and the moon;
His joy is the beginning, the middle, and the end;
His joy is eyes, darkness, and light.
Oceans and waves are His joy; His joy the Sarasvati, the Jumna, and the Ganges.
The Guru is One: and life and death, union and separation, are all His plays of joy!
His play the land and water, the whole universe!
His play the earth and the sky!
In play is the Creation spread out, in play it is established. The whole world, says Kabir, rests in His play, yet still the Player remains unknown.

LET HONOUR come to me from Thee
through a call to some desperate task,
in the pride of poignant suffering.
Lull me not into languid dreams;
Shake me out of this cringing in the dust,
Out of the fetters that shackle our mind, make futile our destiny;
Out of the unreason that bends our dignity down under the
indiscriminate feet of dictators;
Shatter this age-long shame of ours,
And raise our head
into the boundless sky,
into the generous light,
into the air of freedom.